


Stars in Your Eyes, Ocean in Your Heart

by Sarolonde



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Flirting, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Shance Fluff Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 08:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11100963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarolonde/pseuds/Sarolonde
Summary: A night at the beach and some liquid courage is what it takes for Shiro to finally tell Lance how he feels.





	Stars in Your Eyes, Ocean in Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> day 2 Shance Fluff Week: Sea/Stars
> 
> there is some implied alcohol drinking, but in this AU everyone is an adult. Shiro's only a little tipsy. possibly a lot. let him have some fun okay?!

The ocean is endless, especially at night when it’s such a deep dark blue, sky and water blending together to create an infinite horizon. Stars dapple the velvet smooth surface of the night sky, shining and flickering, reflecting and moving aberrantly across the water.

Spellbound by the beauty of it, Lance sits on the beach with his elbows resting on his raised knees and toes wriggling in the soft sand. The wind ruffles through his hair and he inhales deeply, filling his lungs with the fresh, salty air, still warm with the heat of the summer sun that had dipped below the horizon hours ago.

He can hear laughter and voices behind him, can see the bright fluttering light of the bonfire in his periphery. With food and a bit of alcohol, of which Lance has barely had a few sips, at least his friends are having fun. Lance had crept away earlier, not wanting to drag any of them down with his melancholy.

Resting his head on his arms, Lance stares out, feeling small and unimportant in the vast greatness displayed before him.

He’s clearly not paying much attention to his surroundings because Shiro speaks before Lance notices his presence and glimpses his legs beside him.

“May I join you?” Shiro asks, ever polite.

Lance merely hums an affirmative, not even sure Shiro can hear it over the perpetual distant roar of waves. Shiro hesitates before settling himself down next to Lance; the bump of his hip and shoulder stirring a warren of rabbits in Lance’s chest that he ignores with practiced expertise.

Shiro doesn’t talk. Won’t talk. It’s how he gets people to confide in him. Offers his comforting presence and just waits patiently. It’s his thing; listening, caring, being an incredibly supportive friend. It’s irritating because it works.

“Do you ever think the world is just too big? That you’ll never be significant enough to matter?” Lance asks, unable to stop himself.

He feels the weight of Shiro’s muscular arm rest gently across his shoulders. “Well that’s an easy one,” Shiro says in an unusually casual tone. “You do matter.”

Lance glances up at him finally, surprised, and swallows hard as he’s meet with Shiro’s smoky grey gaze, too close, a mere breath away. But he’s not so distracted he doesn’t notice the flush across Shiro’s cheeks and amused curl of his lips.

“How much have you had to drink?”

Shiro’s eyebrows raise as a look of hurt flashes across his face and he draws back some, arm lingering but the weight of it feels uncertain, ready to lift at any moment. He wants to hold Shiro’s arm there, keep it there and forever remain encircled in the heat of his body. But that might be an inappropriate thing for friends to want.

“I really haven’t had that much. Just a couple beers, probably more than I’d usually have and I’m a little tipsy _maybe_ ,” Shiro allows. “But I’m certainly aware enough to make silly jokes based on truth.”

Lance smiles and feels Shiro relax against him immediately. “Mm, you’re right. As Mr. Responsibility you were probably over there meticulously measuring out the alcohol based on their weight and height and timing for when they can drink more.”

Shiro huffs a laugh and looks out at the ocean. “Yeah well, someone has to babysit you loveable idiots. Honestly I’m just lucky Pidge hates the stuff, she’d be such a lightweight.”

“Not only that, but can you imagine the absolute unfiltered savagery? None of us would come out of that in one piece.”

Shiro chuckles with amusement and Lance revels in the deep, rumbling sound of it in his chest. Making Shiro smile and laugh is always so deeply satisfying, it makes Lance happier than he could even begin to explain.

“So, insignificance, huh?”

Lance knows Shiro’s not seeking an answer and remains silent, listening to him breathe, quiet under the sound of the ocean. He traces the silver line of Shiro’s profile in the shining moonlight, watching his brow furrow pensively.

“I know how much your family and friends love you, Lance, and I see how important you are to so many people,” Shiro says, his voice smooth and confident until he pauses, hesitates, the tendons in his jaw twitching. “I suppose I can’t really speak for them. But, for me… Well, I adore you. Meeting you was the most significant moment of my life.”

Lance freezes and hope flares to life in his chest, burning bright and hot, warming through his cheeks. Slowly, Shiro turns to face him, stars reflecting in the dark depths of his eyes as he stares at Lance like he’s the most important thing in the universe.

“I guess what they say about alcohol being liquid courage is true,” Shiro says softly, smiling as he leans his forehead against Lance’s, the tuft of his white hair tickling at Lance’s skin. “I should have tried it sooner.”

Lance snorts a nervous laugh. “P-uh-lease! You’re the most courageous person I know. You’re literally a firefighter and you’d dive in to save anyone without a moment’s hesitation. Which, as someone who cares about you, is deeply worrying, but courageous nonetheless,” he babbles, it’s what Lance does best when he’s _freaking the fuck out_.

“What if I’m not everything you believe I am?”

“You are, Shiro. I know you are,” Lance says confidently, because if there is one thing he is certain of, if there is one thing he believes in, it’s Shiro. “So… you needed liquid courage to tell me you adore me?”

“No. I needed it to tell you that I’m in love with you.”

Heart racing and every muscle in his body tensing, Lance pulls back, frantically searching Shiro’s face. It’s easy to dismiss his own overly hopeful thoughts of ‘Shiro’s staring at me’ or ‘he’s hugging me longer than usual,’ but when Shiro – earnest, honourable Shiro – says something, it’s undeniably true. Lance can’t doubt or deny the affectionate smile curling Shiro’s lips or the gentle, affirming squeeze at Lance’s shoulder.

Shiro’s in love with Lance.

And Lance _loves_ Shiro.

But because he’s Lance and no matter how utterly exhilarated he feels – like he’s _fucking flying_ – the confession is also weighty and terrifying.

Because he’s Lance, he squints with playful suspicion and says, “I don’t believe you.”

Fortunately, because Shiro knows Lance so well he simply laughs, amused and somehow not at all surprised and possibly a little relieved. _That’s the Lance I know and love._

“Oh but it’s true, trust me,” Shiro assures, his smile unreserved and beautiful. “Confession has been a long time coming.”

Lance’s breath hitches, but he manages to keep his voice from wavering. “Trust you? You’ve had _two_ beers, Shiro!” he jokes, adding a little flair of the dramatic.

Shiro winces. “I lied. I’ve had three.”

Lance gasps, pressing his palm to his chest. “I am shocked and appalled! Watch out, folks, Takashi Shirogane has flown off the handle!”

Laughing uncontrollably, Shiro leans into Lance, resting his head on Lance’s shoulder as his whole body quakes with his amusement. Lance has only seen him like this on a few occasions and it makes his heart soar to know that he created such uninhibited happiness. Shiro is the kindest and most incredible person Lance has ever met, but he worries too much. He deserves at least some moments to relax and be happy.

“What will it take to convince you?” Shiro asks, his chin resting on Lance’s shoulder.

Feeling bold and brave, Lance turns his head and immediately drops his gaze to Shiro’s mouth, so close Shiro’s warm breath caresses his lips.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Shiro tilts his head up, their noses rubbing together with tender significance, the minor movement feeling more affectionate than anything he’s ever experienced. There’s no inconsequential surge of desirous energy sparking, simply a steady thrum of warm, intimate reverence burning between them, familiar and comforting, like it’s always been there.

“How about,” Shiro suggests, voice low and enticing, lips brushing Lance’s with a feather-light touch, “I throw you into the sea?”

“Wha—?”

Lance yelps, unable to even react as he’s suddenly lifted – with arousingly impressive ease – and flung over Shiro’s shoulder. He squirms helplessly – and mostly for show – with Shiro’s strong grip on the back of his thigh keeping him in place.

“Shiro! Don’t you freaking dare,” Lance complains, twisting to watch them approach the water tumbling against the sand. “It’ll be freezing!”

“You look like you need to cool down.”

“Oh wow, are all the cheesy lines necessary?”

“Says the King of Cheesy Lines.” Shiro punctuates his teasing comment with a squeeze of Lance’s thigh, his hand moving gradually, dangerously upwards as he adjusts Lance’s weight on his shoulder. “Oh look, here’s your stop, Lance. Ready?”

“No, Shiro, seriously,” Lance pleads. Shiro’s too responsible to throw Lance into the cold water but in this cheerful, playful mood, he just might. Either way, Lance isn’t willing to risk it. “If you throw me in there I swear to— _aaaa!_ ”

There is an alarming, stomach-dropping moment of weightlessness as Shiro heaves Lance off his shoulder before catching Lance in his arms. Shiro grins down at him, so very pleased with himself, as he cradles Lance against his chest and makes his way back up the beach.

“I would never drop you, Lance,” Shiro promises. And Lance believes it, trusts Shiro implicitly.

“God, dude, you are so freaking cheesy,” Lance remarks, casually resting his arm around Shiro’s shoulders. “How have I _never_ noticed this before?”

“Probably because I’ve been trying to impress you and it’s not exactly—”

For the second time in less than a minute Lance yelps and flails and flies through the air, but this time there is nothing to catch him but the – fortunately – soft beach of sand. Shiro falls on top of him with a grunt and somehow manages to catch himself before crushing Lance with all of those delicious muscles. On second thought, the crushing would definitely be worth it.

Lance can feel the length of Shiro’s body, their legs tangled together in the sand, hips pressed together temptingly and Shiro’s head resting on his shoulder. They’ve been friends for many years but they’ve never been this close, yet it’s so easy to simply have Shiro draped over him. So natural.

“You were saying something about never dropping me?” Lance comments dryly and glances up to see Shiro smirking as he props himself up on his elbows. “Wait… did you—? You did this on purpose!”

“What? No! I would never!” Shiro feigns ignorance.

“Oh, sure. That’s why you’re not moving a single inch and simply smiling at me.”

“Maybe I’m too stunned by how handsome you are to move.”

Lance’s eyebrows raise. “Oh really?”

Shiro’s smile softens, becoming something tender and fond as his fingers brush through Lance’s hair. “Impossibly and unbelievably handsome.”

“Flatterer,” Lance says. It’s supposed to be playful, he’s supposed to be smirking, but Shiro’s words leave him warm and fuzzy, leave his smile adoring and his voice light with fondness.

Lance stares up at Shiro, mapping the strong lines of his face with a freedom he’s never felt or allowed himself before. With his white hair fluffed softly by the breeze and his head haloed by the winking stars above, Shiro looks as gorgeous as the day they met. He’s the only person Lance has wanted so much it hurt and the person he thought he’d never have.

This feels surreal. It feels like a dream.

Shiro’s eyes flutter closed a moment as Lance holds his waist and slides his hands up Shiro’s sides to rest on his shoulders, pressing his fingers into the muscle encouragingly. Time seems to slow, the world around them disappearing as Lance’s awareness narrows to the small space between them that Shiro is closing. Then he pauses, hovering a mere inch from Lance’s face. Thinking that Shiro is possibly wanting Lance to initiate the kiss as some sort of final permission, he leans up but Shiro pulls away and a smirk slowly curls at his lips.

“Shiro!” Lance whines, flopping back onto the sand. “You are a _menace_!”

“I am a delight,” he grins mischievously, remaining painfully out of reach.

Lance huffs a laugh. “When exactly did we change personalities? Not that I’m complaining, because seeing you smile makes me so happy. No, wait, I _am_ complaining because you won’t kiss me. Unless I—”

Digging his heel and elbow into the sand, Lance gets enough leverage to flip the unsuspecting and pliant Shiro over. Straddling his hips, Lance grins down at him triumphantly. Shiro stares up at him with wide, surprised eyes.

“Unless I simply take it for my— _mmm_.”

Shiro surges forward, claiming Lance’s smiling mouth and winding his arms around Lance’s waist. Lance leans into the heat of his solid body, draping his arms over Shiro’s shoulders and humming contently against his mouth.

The kiss is warm and soft and easy, lips sliding, tongues exploring and mouths melding. Lance never wants it to stop, never wants to do anything other than kiss Shiro, never wants to be anywhere other than wrapped in his strong arms and pressed against his hard body. It’s perfect. Their noses bumping together when they change the angle, Shiro tasting like beer, tangy and slightly sour, and panting breathlessly but absolutely refusing to stop.

The fact that they’re on a beach becomes grossly apparent again when an unfortunately timed gust of wind sweeps sand into Lance’s mouth. He grimaces and pulls back, spitting and spluttering the grains off his tongue, turned away from Shiro, who’s unhelpfully chuckling at him.

“Bleugh, people need to stop romanticising the beach,” Lance complains, though it comes out in an unclear mumble of sounds as he scrubs his hand over his mouth frantically. “It’s misleading.”

Shiro chuckles quietly and leans against Lance’s shoulder, pressing his lips against the exposed skin of his collar bone. He tightens his hold on Lance, as if they could get any closer. Shiro’s shoulders feel tense under his hands, so Lance simply rests his cheek against Shiro’s hair and allows silence fall between them, listening to the resounding swell of the ocean.

“We could’ve had this for… weeks? Months?” Shiro poses in askance, his voice quiet with emotion and full of remorse. “Years…?”

And, nope, nah uh, no way. Lance isn’t going to let him bear this guilt. So he does what he does best.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a chickenshit you could have told me sooner,” Lance says teasingly.

Shiro stiffens and for a moment Lance panics, heart dropping to his gut and mind racing, searching for a way to fix it. Then Shiro barks out a laugh and pulls back to regard Lance, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Me a chickenshit?” he questions, incredulous but grinning brilliantly. Shiro’s fingers dig into Lance’s sides and he squirms, unable to get away from Shiro’s strong grip, uncontrolled laughter bursting out of him. “What about you?”

“Ah! No, no, _Shiro!_ ” Lance giggles as Shiro relentlessly tickles him. “I’m not—ah _ha, Shiro_ , I—”

Lance manages to get his hands on Shiro’s chest and shoves him back against the sand, clambering free of his grasp. He grins victoriously but squeaks and flees when Shiro scrambles to his feet and races after him with a determined look on his face. Lance runs towards their bonfire, heart stuttering and soaring with delight and exhilaration.

Lance is faster than Shiro and runs around the other side of the fire and their circle of friends, he stops, waiting to see which way Shiro will run. They’re at an impasse, standing at opposite sides of the fire, panting and grinning at each other.

“This is incredibly dangerous,” Allura scolds as they playfully chase each other around their friends once more. Shiro seems too focused on Lance to care. “I shouldn’t have to tell a professional fireman how dangerous this is, Shiro.”

Lance trips over something – it’s totally Pidge’s leg – and before he can get upright Shiro tackles him, pressing him into the sand and peppering kisses all over his face. Giggling helplessly, happily, Lance revels in Shiro’s weight and his mouth and his attention.

“Gross,” Pidge complains, like this wasn’t her exact intention when she tripped Lance. “Keith, you owe me twenty bucks.”

Keith heaves a long-suffering sigh. “You guys couldn’t pathetically pine for each other for another two weeks?”

Lance can’t respond because his mouth is filled with Shiro’s tongue and he doesn’t give a single damn about anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://sarogane.tumblr.com/) || [my twitter](https://twitter.com/sarogane%22)


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